rockabye
by CherryFlavoredChalk
Summary: Marluxia/Roxas. Take him down, pass him around. Spin-off of The Wykkyd's TRACK SEASON.


**Author's Note:**

Right, well, it's unusual in itself that I'm writing something right after having already posted something else. It's screwing up my schedule like whoa, seriously. But I liked the way it came out, and I got permission, so I figured, "Eh. might as well"

I'm also stalling on **_Euthanasia_**, but that's neither here nor there

This is an accompaniment to a devastatingly fabulous SoRiku-centered story called _**Track Season**_ by **The Wykkyd.** By accompaniment, I meant that she holds the inspiration for this fic, and that the situation Marluxia/Roxas/rape/drug is hers alone.

**As in, it isn't mine. I wish I'd come up with it, but I didn't.**

However, I do own Marluxia's party and what goes down at it, as well as the dialogue. In a nutshell, everything BUT the general concept (Marluxia/Roxas/ rape/drug).

Ready? Let's drop.

* * *

_**rockabye; a Track Season spin-off**_

He is trapped like a butterfly in a glass display—limbs spread, all but still as the spectators crept closer to catch a better look, to revel all the more in a perverse enjoyment. Poor little blonde boy, spread-eagle against the wall with no one to save him.

There are no heroes.

There are only villains.

* * *

**_"What're you crying for?"_**

**_"I don't...I didn't want to..."_**

**_"I know you wanted it, kitten. I could see it in your eyes."_**

**_"But I..."_**

**_"We're friends, right? Friends give each other what they want. Or don't you know how to be pals with someone?"_**

* * *

The majority of the people are drunk, stoned, or both. They are all standing much too close to each other, laughing too hard, singing too loudly.

_"NINETY-NINE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, NINETY-NINE BOTTLES OF BEER! YOU TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND-"_

A push, gentle, to the back of the head, directing baby blues to the thin line of coke on the ashtray. Tongue reaching out to moisten cracked lips, containing the longing moan--but barely, just barely—and Marluxia knows, he fucking _knows_, that his little blue-eyed angel wants it.

"Be a good boy," he murmurs into the soft, curving shell of Roxas's ear, "and I'll let you have dessert."

Marluxia loved it. He liked watching Roxas writhe and twist in discomfort, and then seeing him submit _("because then I can have it, right? You'll hand over the drugs, right?")._ It was even more amusing to slip him Ecstasy, acid, or something else instead (he's too whacked out to tell, too many drugs in the air, too much booze being passed around)…so, so entertaining to see that precious forehead wrinkle in confusion, the full lips tremble, and then watch him plead, oh so prettily, for a much-needed fix.

It was better when he struggled, when he was barely (but only just) clinging to his last shred of dignity, and then, like, an over-flowing dam, he simply burst.

It was better when he gave up, pouted those cherry lips, and promised you the world in exchange for drugs.

Saix liked it because sometimes Roxas cried for it (tears did wonders for his pretty eyes). Larxene preferred him to be already tripping, and indulged him until Roxas's angel-eyes were rimmed red.

Marluxia didn't mind either way. But he liked to hear Roxas say it.

"Say it, please," he croons into Roxas's neck (_soft, soft, so tantalizingly soft_) as he rocked their hips together. "Say it."

The blonde sniffs, lips creaking open to whimper, "Please, Marluxia, p-p-please." Manners had to be minded if he wanted his fix, and Marluxia preferred his darling Roxas-baby to beg. He wanted to watch that precious baby-face wrinkle in humiliation and helpless desire for that paltry line of coke. If he begged, then it was rape, molestation, or anything nasty.

It was a mutual agreement. Everyone got what they wanted.

* * *

**_"How badly do you want it?"_**

**_"I...You said you'd just give it to me, you didn't say I had to-"_**

**_"HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT IT, ROXAS?"_**

**_"I...I..."_**

**_"ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION. HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT IT?"_**

* * *

_"NINETY-EIGHT BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, NINETY-EIGHT BOTTLES OF BEER!"_

"I said you could watch," Marluxia says testily to his intoxicated crew. "Not sing. Shut up or you won't get your turn."

A meeting teeth to soft flesh, and Roxas lets out a dry sob _("It's only proper, kitten. I've got to let everyone know that you are first, and foremost, mine.")._ Marluxia releases him and shoves him at Saix, who's been patiently waiting his turn on the couch.

Roxas cries his pretty little middle school tears all over his t-shirt. "But you said... you **_promised_**…"

Saix silences him with a kiss, Larxene expertly snorts a line as she takes in the scene with relish, and Marluxia lights a joint and grins.

_Take him down._

The blonde is sobbing now, weakly pushing against Saix's body. "I want to go home, I don't want it any more…"

_Pass him around._

"Why, Roxas." Marluxia coos, watching smoke uncurl from his mouth. "Didn't your mommy ever tell you not to tell lies?"

Saix bites Roxas's neck suddenly, and the boy returns back to his muted sniveling.

_One little Roxas-baby pushed up to a wall._

* * *

**_"Crying again, Roxas?"_**

**_"I didn't want that! You said you'd give me a fix, and you didn't! You just...you just..."_**

**_"But I like you, kitten. And I know you enjoyed it."_**

**_"It didn't feel right. I feel...I feel gross now. Disgusting. Horrible."_**

**_"Well, it is right. I love you, Roxas. Now, say it to me."_**

**_"I-I-I love you, Marluxia."_**

**_"There's a good kitten."_**

* * *


End file.
